Not So Bad
by server47
Summary: She always looked up before she left. ------- sarkney my first one so please help me i want critisim people


CHAPTER 1

"Why are you doing this?" he said as he sat on the bed facing the window. His head was in his hands.

"I know it's for the best" she said softly, almost without conviction. Almost.

"You can't possibly mean that?" she heard him say, his voice so low she almost couldn't hear him. Almost.

"I do, and you know it's true" she almost didn't continue with an explanation for her decision but she wanted him to know that it wasn't because of him. "We just can't continue hurting each other like we do; I don't know if I could take it." She moved in front of him and knelt down to her knees putting her hands on his legs.

Sark lifted his head up putting his hands under his chin, as if he needed support to keep his head up. "Sometimes when everything is good between us, I forget about everything else, I forget that you'll eventually have to leave again, but you always come back."

Sydney sighed and shook her head softly not wanting to break eye contact with him

"I won't be coming back this time Sark" she said calmly hoping her voice would not break, hoping he could not see thru her like he always did. "I can't come back, not this time."

He saw her hands shake the slightest bit when she moved a strand of hair that had fallen in her face, betraying her so-called confidence.

"You're lying." He stated flatly hiding any trace of what he was feeling at the moment. "Why are you really doing this Sydney, what are you not telling me?" he said his voice rising slightly. He saw her eyes flash with anger; she hated being called a liar.

"You can't handle the truth Sark." Sydney spat out. She was angry now.

"Try me" Sark said getting annoyed that she didn't think he could take what she wanted to say. He had been stabbed with an axe pick before, what could be worse than that?

"I'm falling in love with you." she said loudly her face tinted pink from what she just admitted, or maybe from how angry she was that he wouldn't just let her go.

Sark didn't move. He had not expected her to say that.

She continued. "It's wrong what I'm doing with you, you're the bad Guy." she laughed unbelievably. "What does that make me? I'm sleeping with the enemy. Does that make me one too? There's not future for us, there can't be, even if you felt the same, which it's obvious that you don't by the way, because you would be fighting with me for me to stay.

You wouldn't be just sitting there calmly not even giving a damn whether or not I even exist. We can't go outside when were together unless were in disguise, we can't go anywhere without our guns, for crying out loud Sark, what kind of a couple, if that's even what we are mind you, has 24 hour surveillance cameras in an office down the hall from where they sleep? What kind of a couple has to have guards outside the house every second of every damn day , and has to make sure the guards sweep the house for bugs or explosives just encase someone got pass the cameras, the watch dogs and the guards with heavy artillery outside before they even step foot in it?"

Sark watched her as she spoke. The way she paced back and forth, how she tried to remain calm but was quickly losing the battle, how she would look at him every time

she said his name.

"I feel as if my life could never get more screwed up and more twisted then it already is. What I can't seem to figure out is why even with all this danger around us, why can't I stay away from you for more then three weeks at a time? Why do I feel so safe with you, when really your entire existence contradicts that very word? When you kiss me or smirk at me or even just stare at me with that unnerving gaze of yours, I get chills, and it's the good kind. I should fear for my life when I'm around you. But I don't, and I don't like that don't .I was more scared of not having you around at all. But now I realize that this"

She said waving her hands around "this is not real, were not real. I can't do this anymore." She said a touch of sadness in her voice or maybe that was the sound of relief. She was shaking even more now and she felt warm tears running down her cheeks. She was too exhausted to wipe them away.

Sark sat motionless on the bed. She was in love with him. Sydney was in love with him.

Of all the things possible in the world this he had never dreamed of. This whole thing between the two of them had started out as just a romp, a seduction he was quite proud of, seducing the bosses daughter was a game to him, a new found hobby he was thoroughly enjoying. He knew something had changed; feelings had gotten in the way of his little game. He knew because after she left to go back home for the third time, he didn't change the pillowcases on his bed because he wanted to still smell her shampoo after she was gone. He started buying beer to keep in his fridge. He detested beer but knew she enjoyed it. He started reading Ayn Rand and Emily Dickinson , though he preferred Antony Beevor and Robert Frost .When he sat alone at dinner he would try to think of something that would make her laugh the next time he was with her, wondering to himself why he even cared, wasn't this whole thing for his enjoyment. Then he realized that he liked to see her smile. She hardly ever smiled.

But did he love her? He knew he cared for her it took a lot for him just to admit that to himself, but did he love her? He knew she was waiting for a reply, a conformation of his intentions towards her, possibly a reciprocation of similar feelings.

She was staring out the window now, she had her arms wrapped around herself, the sky was darkening and the fading light brought an eerie glow to the bedroom. He saw the tears, drying slowly on her skin. What she had said reminded him of a poem by Edwin Robinson he replayed the first few lines in his head

"She fears him, and will always ask

What fated her to choose him; She meets in his engaging mask

All reasons to refuse him."

He couldn't give her anything. So he settled for the cocky façade he played so eloquently.

"If you're leaving, then go now." He said in a commanding tone. "My driver will take you home."

She was still facing the window and he saw fresh tears begin to fall. He turned away not wanting to watch her anymore. She would be back and everything would go back to normal, they would conveniently forget what happened tonight. 'She would be back' he said to himself. He walked out of the bedroom leaving her alone to get her things. He had always liked to watch her pack before because he liked to watch her take one of his shirts home with her thinking he was not looking. The first time she had to wear one of his shirts was because she spilled coffee on her own and while it was washing he had given her one of his. It didn't stay on long though; as soon as he saw her in his blue oxford he couldn't control his actions from then on. It remained on the kitchen floor for two days.

As well as the shirt he was wearing that day. He smirked to himself as he walked into his study. That had been a good day.

Sydney was still crying quietly as she packed her small duffle bag. Had he even heard what she said? She laughs thru her tears, how could she have even thought that he would feel the same? She looked around the room, looking for anything she may have forgotten to pack. She noticed Sarks watch on the nightstand next to his blue oxford dress shirt.

She grabs both and throws them in her bag.

Walking out of the room and down the hallway, she doesn't hear any noises.

She knows he is in his office, that's where he always goes when she is leaving.

Walking towards the open door at the end of the hallway she sees him staring down at the driveway. His arms crossed and the light from the lamps in his driveway are casting shadows on the walls.

"I told you, you couldn't handle it."

She saw him flinch at the sound of her voice against the stillness of the entire house.

He heard her footsteps fading as she walked to the front door. He wanted to go after her, to tell her to stay. But knew his pride would keep him right where he stood. She needed something from him that he didn't know if he had. He heard the front door open and close. And he thought for sure that the pain in his chest wasn't anxiety. He saw the car pull up and was a bit taken aback to see that she didn't look up before she got into the car.

She always looked up before she left.


End file.
